PS 

"5503 
Y3S9 





SUN 



CMoa 






r%l^^ '< 



2Aijl_ 



Class, 

Book._XlSl_ 

()opyiightN«__^3. 



CiJPMRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



®mitt @ong£i 



By 



GWoe Gasftle Qvmion 




PublisKed by 

A. C. VROMAN, Inc. 

Pasadena, California 






JAN 31 1320 



'CI.A561692 



WO 



Dreamer of Dreams, in the sKadow-times, 
WKen tall trees whisper hand in hand. 
And swift waves kiss the moon-gold sand, 
And hearts ring sweet, sad vesper-chimes, — 
Giver of Gifts, if you understand 

How the hour haunts, though years have sped 
Since together we loved, together read, — 
Dearest of Dear Ones, read my rhymes! 



I cannot pray with thee, thou dauntless one 

Who passetK on with sadly steadfast eyes; 

I cannot sound thy depths of agonies. 
Nor dream thy dream of peace when life is done. 
Since death to thee is but a victory won 

Before the opening gates of Paradise. 

For thee it is the flesh alone that dies. 
And in the spirit new life is begun. 

For me the darkness holds no gleam of light 
Beyond the narrow circle of today. 

Eternal cruelty, heedless, infinite. 

Seems more the master of man's blinded way. 

But still I know not, for man's little mind 
Gropes in the'darkness, blind and more than blind. 



Cfjange of tfie IQitt 

Hand in Hand, a whispering band, 
TKe waves creep out from tKe cliff-clad land. 
Swift to lift at tKe light wind's shift 
Where the blue-green tide shows a green-blue rift. 
And the long rock-shadowed seaweeds drift. 
Purple and rose and emerald green. 
Flowing soft in a sun-flecked sheen. 

Orange and gold and silver-cold 
Dream fish gleam in the shallow's hold. 
Brown and bright and sunshine-white 
The sands lie bare at the water's flight 
Clean to the kiss of the wind's delight. 
Purple and cool each rock-bound pool 
Mirrors the sky's calm over-rule. 

While far at sea, where the tides run free 
A sail drives, frail at the wind's decree, 
Violet and gray, across the bay 
The fog mists shimmer and fade away 
Where the long sea-surges shoreward stray. 
And burdened waves like singing slaves 
Drop their gifts in the long sea caves. 
Proud to press with a swift caress 
To the cliff's clean-bosomed tenderness. 

Earth and air, so wonderous fair, 
God-given beauty, past compare, — 

Sea-of-my-Soul, what of discord there ? 



©latfe gQoolrg 

Skies never bluer 

Waiting the cloud. 
Hearts never truer 

Waiting the shroud ! 

Light that runs singingly 

Over the sea. 
Hands that part clingingly. 

Loath to go free. 

Dreaming the same old dreanas, 

Children unborn. 
Seeking the hidden streams. 

Children of morn. 

Passion of purity. 

Still undeiiled; 
Then brave security 

Being with child. 

Deep in the darkness 

Is one to pray? 
Seeing death's starkness 

Longs one to slay? 



Fair ruined being, — 

(Nothing to me. 
Simply the seeing 

Murder go free!) 

Learning the ways of men, 

Lover of Art! 
Burning the fluent pen. 

Word-weary Heart! 

Braving in sorrow 

Life's long lamenting. 

Then on the morrow 
Conquered, repenting! 

Watching the sun go down 

Over Life's waste. 
Playing the priest or clown 

Ever in haste. 

Weep with the weepers 
Self-conscious tears. 

Reap with the reapers 
Sorrowful years! 



©fje jgtia jgmall yoict 

The storm of tears Kas passed us by. 

Griefs tempest stilled, what yet remains? 
Our own decision cast the die, — 

We stand alone yet Death refrains, 
And thus we question dully, "Why?" 

Nor seek to cleanse lifers battle-stains: 
Then comes the whisper of reply, — 

"Eternity, Eternity 1" 



©fje Oafi 0ittsi 

The inspiration of the Dawn's rebirth. 

The budding beauty of youngf, springtime trees, 
The perfume of the rainsoaked, pregnant earth, 

And secrets whispered by the telltale breeze, — 
The glory of success when noon is high. 

And knowledge from defeat, which bitter seems. 
The flight of thoughts across the evening sky 

Into the sunset's haziness of dreams : — 

These are the gifts most precious in my sight 
To be remembered through the haunted night. 



©fie Goming of ttie Hog 

^Tis sunset time, and son^-time in my heart. 

A shower of careless bird-song tinkles down 

The little wind that leaps among the trees 

And ruffles up my Kair, and leaves its kiss 

Sweet on my lips, and laughing goes its way. 

The high brave hills above the singing sea 

Put on a purple all aethereal 

Woven from drifting mists and dead day-dreams. 

Above, a star, a point of blazing gold. 

Stabs through the sunset with exquisit pain 

Of kinship with the suffering of man. 

While to the East, the night's blue tenderness 

Shimmers into a radient ecstacy 

Touched by the golden fire of the moon. 

Now comes the sea-fog, cold and white and swift, 

To smother close the color-song of things 

Into a leaden silence, while the wind 

Wanders afar, afraid and shivering 

Because the beauty of the night is dead. — 

So is the song within my tired heart. 



Gomrabe JQine 
(To c. w,) 

TKese tkings I ask at the Kands of Fate, 

Comrade Mine. 
Then I am willing to live and wait. 

Proud, with the praises of the crowd 

Taken simply w^ith head unbowed. 
For they enter not at the outer gate. 

But your place is here with warmth and cheer. 

For to me youVe dear, — Nay, more than dear. 
And your praise brings glad heart-holidays, 

Comrade Mine : 

To catch the dear, wild grace of you from the wind as 
it sings in its flight. 

To see the dear child-face of you in the wee wild- 
flowers, gold and blue. 

To And in the crushed ferns trace of you, where your 
naked feet ran light: 

To know that the star-shine on the sea is but a mes- 
sage from you to me, — 
A friendly song, 
The waves along. 

To gladen the lonely night. 



You oi the tawny tangled hair, you of the wind^s de- 
light. 
Say, are you gay on your wandering way. 
And is there joy in the break of day. 
And the falling of the night? 

Tell me the tales of your new-found trails, — 
The songs you sing as the twilight fails. 
And the campfire flames dance bright. 
Say, does the lure still endure? 

Are you glad or sad little comrade of the days when 
our ways were sure? 

Well, play your part with a joyous heart. 

Brave little slave to the love of art: 

Sing your song though the way seem long. 

For youVe strong. Dear Girl, as the winds are strong. 

And youVe hale on the trail where the great belong. 

Follower of the light ! 



gear's^ Qnbing 

Another year has slipped away from me, — 
A year of rose and gold that might not stay 
But passed into the dusk of yesterday. 

So is it when across a sunset sea 

Plows forth a treasure-laden argosy 

Bound for a port full half the world away. 
And fades into the fog at close of day. 

Leaving the great waves desolate, but free. 

Thus had this last year many gifts to bring 
To me who watched it pass the horizon bars. 

But still I smile for there are songs to sing. 
And only painful are lamented scars. 

So sure am I of this one vital thing 

I challenge in my strength the wheeling stars ! 



Qistlt QJanberer 

My soul darts fortK on wings of ligKt 

Up to tKe sky. 
To race the stars with swifter flight 

And pass them by. 

Into eternities of space, — 

Unbounded, free ! 
It conquers time in headlong race 

Of ecstacy. 

Into the void unblessed by light 

By God*s breath blown. 
Where all must perish in the night 

Save love alone. 

And then, when Dawn o'er land and sea 

Begins to smile. 
My soul comes back to dwell with me 

A little while. 



Q (glons of jglonsjs 

What more are songs, that lure and fret and tease 
Than music^s heart-break, drifting down the breeze? 

What more are songs, flung out the heart to ease. 
Than purple pulses of star-smothered seas? 

What more are songs, — nay, are they more than these 
Swift, shifting shadows, 'neath the wind-tossed trees? 



JJittle ©irb 

Dear little bird, in the tree-top high. 

Is your heart on fire with love and pain. 
That there in the sweep of April rain 

You voice my grief in your wild, sweet cry? 

Dear little bird, can you tell me why 

Witl»* tortured joy your love-song thrills 
Through the driving rain that beats and chills 
Under the leaden, wind-torn sky? 

Dear little bird in the tree-top high. 
Brave little bird, can you tell me why? 



H^^om tljE goof 

Below the rooVs great height 
The lonely city night 

Glows with the fallen stars oi man^s desire 
Above the smoke drifts by 
And trails along the sky. 

Dead incense from an ancient altar fire. 

The wheels of life spin fast. 
The night will soon be past. 

Another day will bring new toil and grime. 
But as the years spin round 
A second faith is found. 

And stronger courage welcomes light-foot time. 

Then read its heart aright, 
O, you of blinded sight. 

Who in the city strive for greater gain, — 
As lofty towers rise 
Searching the farther skies. 

Read deep the message. Courage out of Pain! 



Qnber tlje @outfiern Qyosi^ 

TKe fierce wKite fire of the day- 
Has burned away all pagan dross, 

Now at tKe temple doors we pray 
Before we dare behold tbe cross. 

O, holy silence of the night! — 
The hearts of weary human kind 

Go seeking blindly unknow^n light, 
And break because they cannot find. 

We know not even whence nor why. 
But seek to veil our deep heart-scars, 

And lift our faces to the sky, — 
Our altar, lit with countless stars. 

The mighty cross swings high above. 

The organ music of the sea 
Rolls vibrant with almighty love 

Commanding great humility. 

We pray, although we hardly dare 
To cast aside our cloak of fears. 

So burdened are we with despare. 
And deathly drunk with tears. 



©tie jgfinger'jf Qtsitinv 

Out in tke Kills with the sunset over. 

And under a wild-flower slope to the sea, — 

The call of the quail from the wind-blown clover. 
And the joy of the soul that dares be free ! 

Light wind, white wind, fog-breath and sea-song. 
Wild, sweet music, voice of Spring! 

Leave me alone in the hills all the day long, — 
Leave me alone with songs to sing. 

Let me forget all pain and passion. 

Let me forget the Now and Then. 
Let me go back in childhood fashion 

To the fairy world of If and When. 

Verses that flow like running water 

With music of wind, or far star''s song, — 

Let me sing and forget the slaughter 

Of fair white hopes and conquering wrong. 

Back to the primitive joy of living. 

Beauty born in the wild for me. 
Love that lives for the joy of giving, — 

This is the singer's destiny! 



E(eart of O^une 

Did I deny tKe propKesy of May 

WKen even little birds made jubilee, — 
WKen, shrouded in my thoughts' dark tapistry, 

I hid a heart-remembered holiday? 

Yes, but the stars filled all night's trouble-time 
With laughter breaking down dead grief's control. 
And Spring rain beat upon my doubting soul 

A rippling, running rapsody of rhyme. 

Dare I impose my grief of somber hue 

Upon a world, joy-mad at Spring's decree? 
Dare I rebuke the singing, saphire sea. 

When earth and sea are glad with love of you? 

For in your eyes is all the leaping dawn. 

And m your smile, the sunset's tenderness. 
And in your hands, a longing to caress. 

Like white rose-petals fluttering toward the lawn. 

And in your heart great joy, imprisoned, sings 
Of greater beauty, coming swiftly-soon. 
With the white radience of the fulfilled moon 

Kissing to silence all youth's questionings. 



I love tkee best wKen early in the dawn 

TKe birds sing sweetest and all life in new 
With deep heart-promises of love for you. 

And out of wells of silence songs are drawn. 

I love thee most when noon flames gloriously 
With clear white fire from high heaven above. 
And all of life goes leaping-glad with love, — 

Then sure and strong I love victoriously. 

I love thee tenderest when sunset goes 
Into soft shadowings, and waves are still. 
When from thy tired heart, my heart to fill 

Flows out love's greatest rapture of repose. 

I love thee most supremely when the night 
Grants all of beauty freely for love's sake. 
When wonder-wide thine eyes seem half awake. 

Half dreaming in a holy calm delight. 

I love thee strongest though the world divide 
Our little human ways of circumstance. 
Then in the spirit, free from time and chance 

I love thee certainly, and side by side. 

These ways I love thee, yet more dear to me 
Is that white, holiest, all-adoring way 
When scarce I dare to love thee, or to pray,— 

O, that I might be crucified for thee ! 



On ttje @taCliii^ 

Out of the pulsing heart 

Of sunset sea and sky 
Alive, aquiver, strong, 

TKe wind of love comes by. 

Out of tke depths of silence 

Which hold all harmony 
Passes this mighty music 
Between the sky and sea. 

My heart is a little leaf 

And fain would it hold the tree 
Torn by the storm of grief, — 
O, God, be good to me 1 



gontiolet 

Smile, if you care. 
But if not do not gaze into my soul ! — 

Smile if you care. 

But do not take me all so unaware 
With eyes that speak a gladness past control. 
Half dream, half tenderness,-— of life the whole,- 

Smile if you care. 



Qtbenture 

A bubbling splasK of music trickles down 

The nigfht^s dark wall of silence, tken all's still. 

Save for the echo of a sobbingf breath drawn by the 

wind in passing, and the far 
Shout of young fancies riding the new moon 
Headlong adown the night into the sea. 

The heart-pulse of the night drums quick and faint 
Through the swift quiet breathings of all things. 
A great event goes by on wide dark wings 
Beating to starward and eternity. 

Is that a lost soul drifting where the white 
Of lotus flowers shimmers through the gloom? 
Or is it but a dead dream on its way 
To haunt the flower that careless gave it birth? 

A shooting star charges the sky's abyss, — 
My hands are in its flry tangled mane. 
And swift astride its splendor do I vault 
And ride exultant down eternity! 



©tie O^ttttfe^'^^'^ B^^li^ap 

I have taken the wings of the morning, — 
I have fled over eons of sea. 
The ends of the earth 
And death and birth 
Are one with the soul of me. 
I have bathed in the hue 
Of flaming blue 

Where the sky and sea are no longer two, — 
Where a great gold star 
Kissed a flaming scar 
Into my hand that held it far. 
And the pain was what love and hatred are 
Yet beyond was the goal for me. 

For the flame that sings in the hearts of things 
Burns warm in me as it burns in kings. 
Or in mystic priests 
With their sacred feasts. 
And incense offerings. 
The heart of a rose 
More sacred grows 

As a man his own heart deeper knows. 
And the flame in each more brightly glows 
If the man has found it fair: 
Thus the mad white Are 
Of high desire 
Is only the reach for something higher, — 



To be a god, and dare ! — 
The hope to grope 
Past man's blind scope 
Like tke lotus growth from sand and mire 
Through liquid up to air. 
Thus the blinded quest 
For heaven's best 
Is a game 
Of shame 
And an empty jest. 
If wine can lead me there ! 

Yes, wine, wine, wine ! — Is it not divine. 
This burning kiss on these lips of mine? 
Why seek escape 
From this bare girl-shape 
Pouring the blood of the sacred grape 
From a chalise wreathed with the sacred vine 
Torn from her tangled hair ? 

NO, let me drink at her chalise-brink 
The wine of beauty, nor pause to think 
Nor doubt, nor question why: 
For wine is the fire of destiny 

Which flashes through me, and makes nie free !- 
I go to drown in the wine-dark sea 
Under the wine-bright sky! 



Qtflftt fiftre 

I Kear adown tKe dim sea-caves 
TKe nigKt-wind's singing quest, — 

TKe teasing tenderness of waves 
AtKirst to kiss my breast. 

Dearest, tKe nigkt flames gold again. 

And all my life demands 
To feel against my hearths dumb pain 

TKe comfort of your hands. 

TKe witcKery of fog-wind fails 

To Keal tKe sunset-scars, — 
TKe moon Kas spun wKite fire-veils 

To Kide tKe mating stars. 

(O, God of all weak Kuman tKings, 

O, God of eartK and sky. 
Grant us tKy keenest sufferings, — 

We ride, my love and I !) 

Soft o'er tKe little flowers 

Like stars in a sea of grass, — 
Close by tKe grim sea-towers 

Our steeds' swift sKadow^s pass. 

Out from tKe sKore witK measured croon 
Rock tKe waves in tKe arms of tKe moon, 

WKere tKe writKing seaweed curls its fingers 
'Round tKe reefs of tKe dark lagoon. 



Back through a canyon from the sea 
Winds the road for my love and me. 
Until it rises, topping the sea-cliff. 
Pointing the way so far and free. 

Where the road runs white 
Through the shimmering night, — 

(O, God, hast thou heard my prayer? 
For the wind leaps forth 
From the star-hung north 

And to ride, to ride we dare ! 
And we lean to the rush of its passing 

Like swift white hands in our hair.) 

And a panic of fright 
That is half fierce delight 

Sends my steed 

Terror freed 
Through the shadow and light. 
And the beat of his feet 
Down the road^s long retreat 

Marks a song 

That is long 

And is strong 
And is sweet 
As the wind in its singing flight. 
(If the road leads out to Eternity, 
And swift Death waits for my love and me. 
O, God, have I prayed aright?) 



Question 

LigKt, and tKe song of birds : 

Gold-radiance, rose-glory from the sky. 

And in tKe shadow of the hills, the sea. 

All purple peacefulness beneath the dawn. 

And in my heart the question ever new. 

And old as all the world's great heart of pain, — 

"When comes the nobler faith and clearer sight? 

When comes the vision of a world set free?'' — 

A cry for that completeness which shall come. 

But come alone through suffering infinite 

When in the time fortold in prophet lore 

The great gold sun shall strike along the sky 

Piercing the mystery of early dawn, — 

Blazing a pathway to the perfect day. 



Sunset, bird's vesper song. 

And coming twilight, whispering of peace. 

After the long, white glory of the day. 

All gold and purple is the westward sea 

Striding to landward with his arms flung wide, — 

A kingly lover, coming royally. 

To claim his own with valiant, God-like strength. 

Weary and world-worn at this twilight hour 

After the breathless turmoil of the day 

Lived all too swiftly in a world where haste 

Treads fiercely on the flying heels of gain, 

I come at last to where the western land 

Welcomes the passion of the night-time sea. 

Here is fulfillment, and the question asked 

When dawn first hung the heights with woven flame. 

When noon walked fiercely through the ranks of men 

Inciting them to sterner selfish haste, — 

When in the silence of a student's cell 

Great fears rose up to mock at man's distress, — 

Has found its answer after toil and pain. 

After things tragic, — comic, have passed by 

Into the blessed silence of the past. 

Now at this hour when time itself draws breath 

I find my question answered to the full. 

And if this may be doubted by some soul 

World-weary and heart-shattered in the fight 

I bid him live one day for love alone. 

And, after that is done, to humbly stand. 

And hear the twilight message of the sea. 



iQxtam'^ Qnbing 

A dear, gflad dream Kas passed and left me tired 

As one unto whom sleep Kas brought no rest. 

And yet has given much of thought for after-whiles. 

The dream it was which led my feet afield 

To wander in a land not quite unknown 

But richer far than in the olden days 

When flower-crowned and heedless hrst I passed 

Wing-footed through its vales and o'er its hills. 

And now, as one who looking backward, sees 

A dear friend's smile, and smiles a sad farewell, 

I gaze across the dream's sw^ift shadovi^-play. 

I see again the dear, glad, golden hours 

Wrought beautiful with very precious things: 

I see again the glowing blues and golds 

And clear, white-lights of high noons, hours of prayer: 

I see the long rose-shadowed twilight hours 

And those that sparkle with the fresh-sprung day: 

Each and all sanctified by that strange power 

Too strong, too beautiful to be denied, — 

Granted a full dominion in my soul 

To crush or crown me as the dream decreed. 

Now has this radient, joyous, tear-washed dream 

Left me alone as at the first but changed, — 

Perhaps a little weaker from defeat. 

Perhaps a little stronger to face life. 

Yet very sure with knowledge of my soul. 

So once again I turn to face the vast 

Far-stretching future, — is it far away. 

That shadowed resting-place, that men call Death? 



©0 IE. Xt. 6(. 

TKe depths of space beneath me lie. 

I smile to see man's little strife. 
On wings of steady thought I fly. 

And name Eternity my life. 
I learn to choose immortal good 

From weary, human lack of sight, 
I feed upon celestial food, 

I carry in my being light. 
I choose with certain care my course 

And guide my path through star-dust trails. 
I claim the mastery of force. 

Knowing that only weakness fails. 



(gfonnet 

The plaintive pipings of a moon-mad Pan 

Whispered a question answered by the sea 

In its unbroken chant of mystery. 
While mermaids sang as only mermaids can. 
The beach-brush whispered when a satyr ran 

From shade to shadow in his impish glee 

To see the dryads dance in ecstacy. 
And nowhere was there thought or fear of man. 

I would that I had lived a light-foot faun 

To dance in moon-shine where the sea waves roar: 

To know the triumph of the savage dawn. 
And all great wildnesses that are no more. 

To try my young strength e'er the will is gone. 
And love as did those wild, free things of yore ! 



O, Phantom City of my Dreams, 
High consecrate within the fog. 
The sweat from every wheel and cog 

Within thy heart great treasure seems. 

O, Holy city rich beyond 

All count of wealth in pain and tears. 

The agony of heedless years 
Is in our souls a mighty bond. 

I pray, e'er my last steps are trod 
To see, behind the mist, the End, 
To dare to call my brother Friend, 

And so draw nearer unto God. 

The spirit of redemption's peace 

Broods in the mists of early morn,— 
A deeper peace shall yet be born 

When men shall love and war shall cease. 

Then moving force that guides the spheres. 
Accept our w^ar-born, w^orld-w^ide creed. 
And e'er our hearts have ceased to bleed 

Grant us the tenderness of tears. 

Let us acknowledge fair defeat 
With socialistic hand in hand, — 
The nation's heart must understand 

Or else for ever cease to beat! 



QonfegfiJion 

Heart in hand I came to you 

With a little, whispered prayer 

How could I give blame to you. 
If you did not find it fair? 

Kindly then at me you smiled. 
And your kindness, like a flame 

Burnt me, made me bitter, wild, — 
Yet I cannot give you blame! 

Gently then to me you spoke. 

And your words were light and gay. 

But my heart in pieces broke. 
And I turned, and went away. 



Qlborabo 

I will run high into the hills, 
And laugh up toward the sun; 

I will drop down and kiss the sod 
And worship tenderly my God 
With passion-battles won. — 
I will grow pure as mountain rills. 
Washed fiercely where the fountain chills 
And when these things are done 
Blue valley bound, in ecstacy 
Of love reborn, I'll come to thee ! 



gQib=g(ummer Qigftt 

Listen to the moonlight 

Dripping slow and sweet 
From the flower faces 

Pressed by fairy feet. 

Hear the trickling ripple 

Of the dripping, moon-drenched dew. 
Where little goblins tipple 

And carouse the white night through. 

Taste the leaden wine-scent 

Of perfume on the tongue. 
By fairies weak and wine-spent 

Out of poppies wrung. 

Watch the whirling, swirling 
Wreaths of wind-wound spray 

0*er the fountain curling 

Round fountain-folk at play. 



Hear the moon-moth muttering 

Magic to Himself, 
All despite his fluttering 

Ridden by an elf. 

Hear the mocking music. 

Faint and very far. 
Of many wee, wise minstrels 

Piping to a star. 

Feel the fairy fingers 

Fluttering o'er one's face, — 
Banish care that lingers. 

Join the moon-mad race. 

Drop weak, world-wise wonder. 
Close wan, weary eyes. 

Burst old bonds asunder, — 
Wake to Otherwise! 



Qifalm of ©eartf 

(To A. W. T.) 

If I dip tKe cup of my Keart into the sunset 

Will it brim over witK the beauty of fulfillment? 

If I forget that I Kave thirsted long, will I cease to 

desire water? 
If I w^orsKip only tbe iron cross of my Keart 
Will I dishonor the spirit cross of my soul? 
O, I am drinking deep of the life-giving fountain of 

tears, — 
Nay, but I love the bitter waters. 
And my soul is strong, because I am not afraid ! 

The tears of the spirit-eyes are sacred. 
Through them one sees more clearly 
Than when one^s eyes are radient with sunrise. 
It is only the coward w^ho is afraid to w^eep,— 
Only the great ones who love and are crucified! 

Walk softly through the shadows, O, my heart! 

They are beautiful and therefore to be worshiped. 

Be not fearful of the dark, O, little soul. 

But be steadfast in thy singing. 

Else thou canst not hope to be \ 

Worthy of the gift of crucifixion. 



Dost thou fear the sacrifice, O, Heart-of-Flame? 
What is life but giving and receiving? 
Then, if we give nothing, how can we receive? 
Or if we are faithless, how can we be trusted? 

Dare to spread thy wings in the twilight 
And seek the heights of thy song! 

All the world is in my heart, — may my hands learn 

kindness. 
And my soul serenity from the torture of repression! 
There is nothing that I would not strive to do 
If I could but realize the glory of the conquered! 

I long distantly in the dawning 

For the singing fountains in the high hills. 

Be hilarious to answer, O, my heart. 

And be swift to follow, O, my feet ! 

Be strong to give assistance, O, my hands. 

And be glad with kindness in thy serving, — 

Give of thy strength abundently, O, soul. 

For conquest is in living brave, and loving! 



Hrance 

O France, dear France, Kold up thy head 

And look with tender pride 
Upon tKy sleeping mighty dead 

Entombed on every side. 
And on the earth so richly read 

Beneath thy victor-stride 1 

O France, dear France, cathedral tells 

Have rung the call to prayer. 
For thy dear sons the anthem swells 

Triumphant on the air. — 
O God of France, how beautiful 

To see them lying there ! 

O France, dear France, 'twas thine to yield 

Thy flesh to thus be torn, 
And with thy body thus to shield 

Thy children new^ly born. 
Thou by thy suffVing hast revealed 

Their resurrection morn ! 

O France, sad Mourning-Mother France, 

Behold the pride of kings 
Is fallen 'neath the foe's advance. 

And these, our offerings. 
Have justified the thorns, the lance. 

The cross, Christ's sufferings 1 



O France, dear sister, figkting France, 

Our lads across tKe sea 
Have dared the vagaries of chance 

To figKt and die for thee : 
O look not with a haughty glance 

On Christ's fraternity! 

And France, beloved France of fame. 

Made splendid past desire. 
So beautiful in all thy flame 

Of sacrificial 6re ! — 
O France, revenge thy women's shame, — 

Thy children in the mire! 

And when, O France, the bugles blow 

The peal of victory. 
When through thy bleeding arteries flow 

New life that is to be, — 
O France, remember even so. 

We gave our lives for thee! 



